Tron: Legacy Reimagined
by ageless12
Summary: This is my version of Tron: Legacy with a new character thrown in. Emma Flynn is Sam's younger sister and has found herself thrown into the Grid. The story mostly focuses of her adventures and experiences with interaction thrown in with other characters.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was far to early for phone calls, so when Emma Flynn was awoken by her cell phone, she ignored tried to ignore it. She had hoped it was a dream, but the incessant ringing caused her to roll over and pick it up. Too sleepy to check the called ID, she answered.

"Hello?" She asked groggily into the phone. She hoped it was someone important., sleep was very important to Emma.

"I didn't wake you, did I, Em?" The voice answered with static on the other end. Emma grunted, hoping whoever was calling her had a point. Idle chitchat was for daylight hours.

"Anyways," The voice carried on nonchalantly, "I need a favour…"

"Wait?" Emma interrupted, sitting straight up. She was panicked. "Sam? What do you need? God damn it, what have you done now?"

"Way to be trusting," Sam Flynn chided her. Emma merely sighed. Usually something bad had happened when her brother came asking for favours. And why her, especially at this time? He knew very well that she liked her sleep. Sam had plenty of other people to call for help, unless it was something embarrassing. She hoped it wasn't something embarrassing.

"Just spit it out," Emma said annoyed as she moved towards the edge of her bed. She let her feet dangle over the edge as she waited for Sam to respond. She hoped it was only something silly like he needed a ride home from a party, though he knew very well that Emma did not drive.

"Right, I kind of need someone to bail me out of jail. I really even shouldn't be here. I didn't do anything that illegal, but they're holding me on something stupid," He carried on. Emma sighed again in annoyance. This night was getting even better.

"Right, just tell me where you are," She muttered into the phone as she stood up looking for clothes. The sooner she retrieved her brother and paid his bail, she could return to resting. Besides, she had some event in the morning and hated slathering on tons of makeup to make it look like she was awake, or not a zombie.

"King and 5th," Sam told her.

"I'll be there soon," Emma informed her bother. She snapped her phone shut, ending the call. She actually had no idea where King and 5th was, so soon was much different for her than it was Sam. He was probably stewing in some cell for causing a disruption. It wasn't the only time he had been housed in jail over night.

But before she left, there were several things she had to do, like put on clothes and brush her teeth. Midnight traveling was no reason to look sloppy, especially when it could lead to some sort of scandal. Emma was anything but scandalous. At the age of 25, she was still happily in school, two years through the work on her PhD. Still, the tabloids still made things up, like the one time she had went out without makeup and was cited as a drug addict. It was embarrassing, especially since she had to discuss the issue with her school's dean.

As she spotted a pair of jeans on the floor, she yanked down her pajama bottoms and hefted the jeans up. It was early morning and Emma didn't care what she was wearing. Had it been midday, she might have been tempted to put on something more fancy, like khakis or a skirt, but it was far too late for her. Jeans would do.

Next came finding a top. There were blouses hiding in a suitcase somewhere, but that required far too much effort to do up all those buttons. She glanced down at the shirt she was wearing. It was old and fading, but still looked relatively good. After all, it was one of the shirts she had purchased to inspire school pride within herself. It had failed, obviously, and she had now taken it as a sleep shirt.

The fun part was finding a bra. As flat chested as she was, Emma did not want to been seen in public without her undergarments on. Nothing good came of that. The room was too dark, and she spotted something underneath the bed. Quickly, she reached for it and held it up to the light in the window. It was black, lacy and far too sheer for her liking. It was a moment before she realized the bra wasn't hers. Startled, she dropped it and kicked it away when it hit the floor. This was what she got for staying in her brother's room. She prayed he had changed the sheets before her arrival.

Ten minutes later, Emma was fully dressed, had pulled her dirty hair up into a messy bun, called a cab and waited anxiously outside her brother's apartment to be picked up. She tapped her foot anxiously against the pavement, hoping that her cab would be here soon.

Emma tried to avoid staying at her brother's, but she was in town for a few days and needed a place to crash. Encom was releasing some new software or something and had asked her to be present at the public release. She had agreed, since she was practically the Flynn face of Encom after Sam had walked away. It was bad for business if the family had little interest in the doing if the company. Emma had some interest, she just preferred to stay away from public light, though it was far too late for that. Sam said that he would never go back to Encom.

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><p><strong>AN: Yeah, so please don't shoot me. This'll be rather long and slow to start. R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Emma was in her senior year in high school, and Sam had been away at college for almost two years. As much as she missed him, it was nice to have some space. A few days before prom, Emma remembered her brother coming home. The visit was unexpected since Sam still had classes and exams to attend. She wondered why he had come back, but before she could ask him, she heard a loud argument in the kitchen.

She sat in her room with her knees to her chest as she listened to the fight that Sam and their guardian were having. Sam had decided to drop out from college with bogus reasons like he hated what he was studying. Sam was gifted with computers and enjoyed spending time on writing programs. Something else was clearly the matter.

The fight went along and she heard, 'you can't run a company without a degree.' And then the final piece of the puzzle was in place.

"Maybe I don't want to run a company," Emma heard Sam yell through her closed door.

After that, Sam entered Emma's room to talk to her. She looked up at him warily with tears in her eyes. Though fights between Sam and their guardian weren't uncommon, Emma sometimes asked that Sam would just do what he's told to avoid the fights.

He sat down beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You heard that, huh?" He asked as he looked over at his sister with concern. Emma merely nodded, sniffing away her tears.

Are you going to stay here?" She asked curiously, changing her position so that she could lean against her brother. Now Sam shook his head.

"I'm going to move out, Em," He told her. "I want my place, somewhere away from all of this. I don't want anything to do with Encom."

"Why?" Emma asked, confused. Encom was their legacy, their lives. For as long as she could remember, Sam was to take over at Encom where Emma was to do what she pleased, so long as she married some rich Encom exec. No one had ever said it in that many words, but that was what she had gotten from attending many events that the company offered. No one expected her to do anything except be a good wife.

"I don't like the idea that our whole lives have been planned out," Sam said after a moment of thought. "Wouldn't you like to do whatever you wanted?"

Emma thought for a moment. No one really seemed to care what she did, as long as she stayed out of trouble. The yearly Encom visits had always left her with the secretary while Sam had gotten to see the inner workings. She was a Flynn, why couldn't she be Encom's legacy.

"They don't care what I do," Emma admitted. "But I'll make them change their minds."

"You going to start a drug habit?" Her older brother joked with her. Emma pushed him away in exasperation.

"No, I'm going to work for Encom, silly," She announced. "You can go do whatever, and I'll be Encom's CEO or whatever the title is."

Sam merely nodded, as he didn't believe her. That was unfair, she thought, considering she was just as good with computers as he was. She'd make him change his mind too.

"So, your prom's on Friday," Sam said after a while. "Is your dress pretty? Got a date?"

Emma groaned since Sam usually showed no interest in her personal life, but when he did, it was never good.

"So what if I have a date," She said to him, "I'm almost 18, I'm practically an adult." Sam laughed at her statement.

"Even when you're an adult," He announced, "You'll still be my baby sister." Now Emma groaned as her brother stood up, walked across her room and began to root through her closet. A few minutes later, he pulled a long pink dress from the closet and held it up against his body.

"Do I look pretty?" He asked Emma in a mocking voice. Annoyed, Emma chucked her pillow at Sam as the two dissolves into giggles.

When Sam left, they were both in a good mood, but Emma had an idea in mind. The next morning, she called the school she was going to attend in the fall and asked to switch majors. The person on the other end of the phone nearly dropped the receiver when she announced she wanted to change her English major into software engineering. Half an hour later, Emma had started on the path of becoming Encom.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Emma lowered her head as she entered the police station, embarrassed to be in such a place. This wasn't the first time she had to bail her brother out of jail, but each time she hoped it would be the last. Sam was permanently a child, much to her annoyance. He never seemed to grow up. They weren't children anymore, these little pranks that he pulled didn't result in a slap on the wrist. Sam was more than likely to face serious jail time than a talking to. Of course he didn't care. There wasn't much that Sam Flynn cared about besides his motorcycle. Emma was beginning to think that Sam had lost his concern for her.

Police stations were always dark, even in the middle of the day. At night, it was even worse as fluorescent lights illuminated the room. With little windows and hard cement walls, the building's design made her extremely nervous. Emma would have much rather been sleeping at the moment instead of bailing her idiotic brother out of jail.

The walk to the nearest clerk seemed longer than it should have been. She would chew Sam out for this, she really would. The desk itself was merely a strip of fake wood with a computer at one end. A somewhat greasy looking male was sitting by the computer, completely engrossed in something before Emma nervously placed her bag onto the counter. The clerk looked up, more annoyed than anything.

"Can I help you?" He asked as he went to look back at whatever he had been doing before Emma entered. She glanced at whatever it was. A dirty magazine? Really? Didn't he have any common sense not to read these in public? Emma shook her head and turned her attention to why she was really here.

"I'm here to pick up Sam Flynn," She said, nervously running her fingers through her light brown hair. The hair was long and soft and helped just a little to calm her nerves.

"You his girlfriend?" The clerk asked as he typed something slowly into the computer with what looked like two fingers. Emma did her best not to roll her eyes. Didn't they teach these people how to type?

"No," She mumbled, mildly disgusted, though this wasn't the first time this question had been asked, "He's my brother. Can we just get this over with?"

Emma was very agitated, tapping her floor against the floor and picking at her nails. Police stations always made her this way and she wanted to get out as quickly as possible. The clerk had registered her discomfort and did his best to work quickly.

Once bail had been paid and some paperwork signed, the clerk disappeared, presumably to fetch Sam. She sure hoped so because she had a lot to say to her brother. And he better pay her back. It had taken him weeks to pay her back since the last time she had to bail he out.

Several minutes later, the clerk reemerged with Sam in tow. Emma let out a sigh of relief as she made eye contact with her brother. He gave her a smirk, much to her abhorrence. Sam seemed fine, which was a good thing, but she was certainly curious as to why her brother had ended up in jail this time. He chatted with the clerk as they sorted a few things out. Sam was given back his motorcycle helmet and a slip of paper. When everything was done, he sauntered his way over to Emma.

"Hey, sis," Sam said casually, grinning at Emma. She was not impressed and as soon as he was close enough, Emma punched his arm. This wasn't a time for jokes.

"What in hell did you do now?" She snapped at him. Sam just shook his head.

"Can't you just trust me?" He asked her as he ran his fingers through his hair. Emma didn't dignify him with an answer. Every time he asked that usually resorted into some sort of trouble for the two.

"Just tell me what you did," Emma huffed as she followed her brother outside. The night air was certainly welcome as she stepped through the doors. It was like some weight had been lifted off her chest and she was able to breathe. And then from the corner of her eye, she noticed something.

Emma groaned, it was the Encom tower. No doubt she would have about 30 angry voicemails about the shenanigans that her brother had gotten into, how she should have stopped them and how she should have controlled him to begin with. All the while, she'd have to smile and pretend that she agreed with Sam's actions, while both Encom and what was left of her family would question her loyalties.

"Prank didn't go as well as I hoped," Sam said to her as he bounded down the stairs.

"And how many voicemails will I have when I check my phone?" She asked. Sam seemed to think that everything he did, she agreed with. Perhaps when they were children and she had no one else to turn to, but now they were adults. He should know better.

"A lot," Sam said with a shrug. Emma was often overlooked in his plans she since was often forced to deal with the aftermath. Sam said he cared for her, but she rarely saw that side.

"You're just trying to get yourself killed," She murmured as she followed her brother across the road, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Emma wanted to say more, but didn't. Sam could be quite touchy about that.

"But then who'd take care of you?" Sam asked her.

"I can take care of myself," Emma snarled. "I've grown up, unlike you."

Now it was Sam's turn to laugh.

"So that wasn't you who called me crying after the Encom Christmas party saying that you're life was ruined and you were going to kill yourself?" He pointed out cruelly. Emma felt her face turn bright red. They had strange ways of depending on each other.

"That was different," Emma insisted. "How did you get down here, anyways"

"Bike," Sam responded as he bothered some poor guy working in a kiosk. "You're not still afraid of it?"

Of course Emma was still afraid of motorcycles. It was one of those clear memories from childhood and she tended to stay away from motorcycles because of it. Her father may not have been going fast, but a fall was still a fall.

"Can't we just take a cab and you can pick it up in the morning?" She called to her brother from the edge of the parking lot.

"No," Sam told her. "It might get stolen, or worse, scratched." Sometimes she hated how the only thing Sam cared about was his bike. "C'mon, Em."

With a sigh, she walked over to her brother who was now searching for his bike. "You'll go slow?"

Sam laughed.

"Of course, Em."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Emma was shaking like mad when Sam finally brought his bike to a stop. Instantly, she hopped off, nearly bringing the bike down with her. Sam looked at her mildly disgusted as he straightened his pride and joy up before effortlessly sliding off. Emma was jealous of Sam's grace, though he had offered to teach her to ride the thing years ago. She had declined, but suspected the offer was still on the table. She would have accepted if she hadn't lived so far away and school wasn't such a priority.

"What are we doing here anyways?" Emma asked as she glanced around. This wasn't Sam's apartment, it was just some sort of creepy diner that she suspected that would leave Sam in heartburn.

"Getting food, what else," Sam said to her. Emma sighed and wondered why they couldn't they just return home. She was obviously tired, as was Sam. And most likely he would want to change his clothes since he kept commenting that his clothes smelt like jail. Which, Emma thought, was his fault. "Do you want anything?"

"No, just be quick, okay?" She told him as she glanced anxiously around the parking lot of the establishment. From the corner of her eye, she could see the river and thought cheerfully that they were almost home, though with Sam around, it could be hours before the returned.

Less that five minutes later, Sam returned with a paper bag that had a grease stained bottom. Emma tried not to roll her eyes. When Sam's metabolism slowed down, he was going to regret whatever fatty food item was in the bag. Sometimes, she hoped that Sam would get old, ugly and fat so that he might learn some responsibility.

"You ready to go?' Sam asked as he tossed the bag at Emma. She didn't manage to catch it and the brown paper bag toppled to the ground. Quickly, Emma tossed the few paper wrapped items back into the sack.

"You're disgusting," Emma muttered as she wiped the grease from her fingers onto her pants. Sam merely shrugged and mounted the bike. Emma sighed as she tossed the grease spattered bag into the purse looped over her arm. It was going to smell like French fries for days. She clamboured up onto the bike and clung tightly to her brother. With the rush of the motor, they were off.

Sam seemed to realize that she was uncomfortable, or perhaps she was hurting him, so he slowed down to a speed where it was bearable for Emma. The journey to his apartment was quicker than she realized and they were figuratively home before she knew it. The motorcycle slid into the main room, and Emma realized perhaps this was why he liked this place. It was open and allowed him to work on whatever he worked on. Plus, that was how Sam liked things, open and without any secrets. She supposed it was from happened when they were children. He felt more betrayed, where Emma felt more abandoned.

The first few weeks after their father had disappeared, Sam kept insisting he would be back, that he would come for them. Emma didn't know what to think, so she huddled around her brother, listening to what he had to say. It was mostly things like he would never leave them, that he promised he would always be around, and the stories of Tron and the Grid. And eventually, she could see him changing. No one believed him, aside from Emma, and that was when the anger and mistrust start to build up.

They both took there turns getting off the bike, with Emma first, in case she almost knocked it over again. She wondered what else Sam treated with so much respect as she crossed the room and dropped herself unceremoniously onto the couch. It was late, and she was tired.

"So," Emma began, "Are you going to tell me what exactly you did to get yourself arrested?" Sam glanced over at her, thinking of his words as he moved across the room, learning against a wall to carry out the dreaded conversation.

"I may have parachuted off the Encom Tower," Sam said nonchalantly as Emma felt her jaw drop.

"What's wrong with you?" She screeched. "You could have gotten killed, or does that matter to you anymore? And that wasn't the only thing you did, was it?" She could tell from Sam's look that there was something else that he was hiding.

"I may have also broken into the building and released the new operating system onto the web," Sam continued with his story. Emma shut her eyes and pretended that she didn't hear that.

"That's a joke, right?" She asked desperately. "You're joking?"

"No, Emma," Sam told her, and her eyes flew open. "This was all designed to be free. You know, the family legacy and all."

"Stop that, you're just making me to feel guilty!" Emma shouted at her brother angrily.

"Is it working?" He asked. Emma knew that Sam preferred that they both had nothing to do with Encom, that she did what he told her, just like when she was little.

"No, you need to grow up, you can't keep on doing these things anymore," She insisted, "Did you even think of what position this would put me in?"

"Oh, no, not this again…" Sam started before Emma cut in.

"Now I have to sit there and pretend like I agree with this," She continued. "They're going to try and get me to agree with them, so we can have some sort of trial or whatever they do. Something to strip you of your stock."

"So, why don't you then?" Sam questioned her. "Why don't you leave me to the wolves?"

"I-I don't know," She answered dumbly. It would be the easiest answer, leaving her brother to deal with the Encom board. No more of his pranks, no more of the other crazy shit he did.

"Probably because then you'd have to work at Encom," He commented, as he pushed himself off the wall and moved closer towards her.

"What are you saying?" Emma asked, slightly confused.

"Oh, please, why do you think you elected to do PhD work?" He asked.

"Because I want to be well informed. I want to be able to lead Encom with some idea of what to do," She answered nervously. Sam had turned the tables by questioning her now. It was a bad sign, usually on where he would try and coerce her into doing something.

"Because you're stalling," He commented. "Why didn't you get a masters in business management?"

"Because we work with software!" She shouted at him. Why couldn't he leave her alone, for just a second? There were tears welling in her eyes, so she quickly turned her head away from her brother. With a quick wipe, they were dry, but wouldn't let herself make eye contact with her brother. She could feel him pressing in from behind. He was to the back of the couch and she could feel herself getting more upset.

"And you know about software, we all know that. You know what you're doing," He said, leaning in closer to her, over he shoulder. "You just like being away from the company. You like where you are. Hiding. They can't touch you if you're away at school. What after the PhD? A fellowship? How much longer can you put this off or are you hoping I'll change my mind?"

"No," She said loudly. "Stop being ridiculous. You know damn well why I don't hang you out to dry."

Sam leant back, intrigued.

"And why is that, Emma?"

"Because, you're my brother. How much stupider could you be? You'd just like it if I did that, so you could be right."

"Right about what?" Sam asked, surprised by her reaction. Usually, she'd just burst into tears or threaten to do something stupid whenever they had this conversation before.

"That you can't trust anyone. That everyone is out to get you, to hurt you. You think I'd betray you?"

"That's not it, Emma," Sam said, placing his right hand on her left shoulder. Immediately, Emma wrenched away from his touch.

"Don't even bother, I'm going to bed," She said as she stood up. She barely remember the fast food Sam had given her, which when she did, she pulled the grease stained bag out of her purse and chucked it with rather bad aim at her brother's head.

And this was one of those times that she hated him. When he tried to make her feel guilty and bad about herself. It was like he was testing her, to see how far she'd bend before she'd finally break. Truthfully, Emma had been close to calling Encom's Chairman and announcing that she would begin working in the morning, but she hadn't. Sam was right, she didn't actually want to work for Encom.

In her last year of her undergrad, Emma had realized the responsibilities of taking over such an important company. Everything she'd do would be scrutinized and compared to her father and she didn't know if she could handle that. She was used to no one caring about what she did. The change would be horrific, but she had to, didn't she? She had to do this and came to mind was the strange idea that she should become more knowledgeable about software. Why not get a masters?

She tried to push the thoughts from her head as she walked towards Sam's bedroom, but felt herself lingering on the past. She already felt crummy, why not make herself feel worse. She barely noticed Alan Bradley as she passed him by. When she did, she looked at him awkwardly, tired and exhausted. She merely muttered hi before sneaking off to get some rest. She'd deal with all the crap later.

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the lack of updates. Kind of been busy. I would really like some feedback on this story, so please R&R.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Emma wasn't sure how long she had been asleep for, but it certainly wasn't time to get up. She rolled onto her side, clutching the blanket like her life depended on it as she attempted to fall back asleep.

"Emma, c'mon," she heard someone say. "We have to go.'

"Go where?" she muttered. "It's bedtime."

"Emma, let's go," the voice said again as its owner reached for her precious blanket. He yanked it away, leaving Emma suddenly cold.

"Nooo!" she called out as her hands groped for the blanket, but all that did was make her fall to the ground. With a groan, she began to process her surroundings. Why was she on the floor? Why was Sam standing over her? Didn't he know she was angry with him? Why was he bothering her now?

"Emma, please, we need to go," he said again, his voice pleading. Had something happened? Why had Alan been here? Had Sam killed someone during his prank?

"Why?" she asked as she brought herself to her feet. Why hadn't she bothered to change into pajamas before going to bed?

"Can you just trust me for once?" he asked. Emma considered that for a moment before deciding exactly how she felt about her brother just then. Trust was not an option.

"No. Why was Alan here? What did you do?" she asked, sitting back down on the bed. She wished she could lie down and go back to sleep, but she knew Sam would just pull her blanket away again.

"He got a page."

"A page? Are you kidding me? Just fuck off, I'm going back to bed." As Emma attempted to go back to sleep, Sam grabbed her arm to stop her.

"From the arcade."

Emma pulled away, confused. That was why Sam was so startled. Maybe someone was pulling a prank on Alan? This couldn't be real.

"That's impossible, Sam. It's closed down."

"Can you just go with me?" There was something in his voice that Emma couldn't quite place. A cross between fear and skepticism maybe, which made her rethink what was going on.

"Fine," she decided, even though she had no idea what exactly he hoped to find. Regardless, she stood up, gathering the shoes she had kicked away before falling asleep. She slipped them onto her feet, then began following her brother as she tried to contemplate what was happening. A page had come, allegedly from their father's arcade. This seemed rather impossible, since it had been closed down for almost twenty years. Was it a prank? Was Alan just trying something? He had to have heard them fight, so maybe he was trying to create some sibling bonding crap. She hoped not—it was far too late, or possibly too early, to be gallivanting around with Sam as they tried to better their relationship.

The two wordlessly traveled to the arcade, both deep in thought. She complained only a few times as her brother sped through the streets. It was all just so strange, so bizarre. Her thoughts swirled around inside her head as they continued on their journey.

Flynn's Arcade was in a deserted part of town. The once-bustling neighbourhood it rested in was quiet, with only the faint hum of traffic from the nearby highway. The building itself was no better, aged and covered with dirty bricks. Heavy gates enclosed the entrance to deter thieves and other vagrants. Between the rusted bars, she could see the double doors leading inside. The first wave of nostalgia hit and the few faint memories Emma had of this place came flooding back. From what she remembered, she was terrible at the games, much to her brother's amusement. She recalled being teased and becoming upset until her father had decided to help her, and then she was the one laughing.

They approached the front entrance of the arcade in silence. Emma noted it looked like the front entrance hadn't been disturbed. She wasn't even sure if there was another entrance or if Alan was in possession of the only set of keys. At that, she gulped, wondering what could be inside. What if it really was their father, or someone who knew where he was…? _No_. She shook her head; that couldn't be the case. She had long ago given up hope that their father would ever return.

She kept close to her brother, unsure of what was to happen. Despite her extreme irritation with him, she felt the need to keep close. Apparently he felt the same way, because he was never more than a few feet from her each step of the way.

She watched as he pulled the keys to the arcade from his pocket. Would this even work, or had the lock rusted completely? Apparently, it was fine, and her brother pulled the gate open. The sound of rusted metal scraping across the ground ended the quiet. Emma felt that was the easy part, because now the front door had to be unlocked. This was the point of no return.

The two stood in uneasily silence before Sam reached for the door. The door unlocked without the slightest hint of trouble and he pulled it open. Emma peered in, noticing the building was untouched and covered with a thick layer of dust.

"No one's there," she said. "Let's just go." But, like always, Sam ignored her. He slipped into the building, turning on the electricity as he went. Unsure of what to do, Emma followed him.

In an instant, the lights went on, and she could see the inside of the arcade. It wasn't the place of life that she remembered; instead it was dirty and dusty, with every machine covered with untouched plastic sheeting. A moment later, the arcade came to life, with each machine turning on with its familiar beeps and music. Most jarring of all was the awful eighties music that Sam had formed an attachment to.

She began glancing at the floor, which was covered in a thick layer of undisturbed dust. No one had been here, at least not recently.

"No one's here," she repeated, crossing her arms nervously over her chest. Sam appeared not to hear her. "Sam, there's no one here. Let's go."

Appearing to notice something, he ignored her once more and walked off, flashlight in hand. Emma sighed and dropped her arms, half-running to catch up with him. There was nothing here to see, nothing here to learn, but she followed him anyways. After all, she hadn't brought any cash with her, so her brother was her ride back. It was best to keep silent and just let Sam reminisce. He had much stronger memories of the arcade than her, and she supposed that made the visit more emotional for him than for her. Most of her memories of it were just feelings and the occasional image, though being around this place brought back things she probably would have never remembered otherwise. So lost in thought was Emma that she didn't even notice she had followed her brother up a flight of stairs.

_The office, _she thought. This too brought back memories as she glanced around the cobwebbed room. Everything here was covered in plastic.

"There's no one here," Emma repeated and Sam finally turned to her.

"I guess you're right," he murmured, and he turned back around with her once again following behind. They were nearing the exit when Sam glanced backwards. Something seemed to have caught his eye, because he turned away. Emma, still lost in thought, hadn't noticed and continued on for a few steps.

"Sam?" she asked as she turned around. "Let's go."

"Just a minute," he replied as if he was far off in another world. Emma finally noticed what he was so transfixed with. It was the Tron arcade game. She hadn't seen that in ages, and she was taken aback. Wasn't this part of their legacy too, the game? She shivered as she approached the machine. It was eerie.

She watched as Sam pulled the plastic sheeting off the game. She had her doubts it would work, but let him continue his trip down memory lane. The game demo played as Emma watched her brother pull a quarter from his pocket and insert it into the machine's coin slot.

"Please tell me you haven't been carrying that around since you were seven," she said to him, rolling her eyes, but Sam either didn't hear her or didn't care. He was too engrossed on what was going on, lost in another world.

The silence was interrupted a few seconds later when the quarter came clattering up on the floor.

"It's not working. Can we go already?" Emma asked again. She was certain there was nothing more to learn.

Sam bent over, somewhat defeated, to pick up the piece of fallen currency. He apparently noticed something that Emma hadn't, because he didn't get up once the quarter was in his hand.

"Sam, please," Emma begged as Sam stood up. He appeared to still be ignoring her as he returned his attention to the Tron arcade game. She watched as he ran his hands along the game before pulling the machine away from the wall. It clattered, causing Emma to jump.

"What the hell are you doing?" she screeched, taking a step back. The game had to be on a hinge or something, because when Sam moved the game, it had shifted to the side as if on a track and revealed a stout metal door. If watching movies had told her anything, there would be something awful lurking underneath. Probably some Phantom-esque creature that would be playing an organ and practicing witchcraft with their father's bones.

Sam did not have the same train of thought as her and reached for the door, pulling it open. It was obvious from the creaky sound that no one else had touched the door in quite a while. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Sam had already began to proceed forward, flashlight in his hand.

"You're not expecting me to go down there?" she asked warily. There was no way in the world she wanted to go down the creepy, cobwebbed, unlit staircase. Sam just shrugged.

"Stay up here if you want," he said. "I'm going down."

Emma disliked the idea of being alone in a creepy deserted building even more than she liked the idea of going down the staircase, and hurried so that she would be beside her brother. Sam just shook his head and shut the door behind him. She didn't quite understand why he had done that. This was how someone got trapped beneath a building and ended up being found years later as a dusty skeleton when they finally decided to tear up said building. She decided not to comment, though, or Sam would do something immature to annoy her, like shut off the flashlight so she could fall down the stairs and break some limbs.

She couldn't say she was surprised when they reached the bottom and there was nothing but the electrical sub-room. No extra door, no other spooky tunnel. It was just like everything else this night, reeking with disappointment. She guessed it had looked like there would be something. There _was_ a hidden door, after all, and a secret passage, but logically, their father had probably just wanted to keep people away from the room. Electricity was dangerous, after all.

Emma was about to say something about leaving when Sam reached for a door.

"Don't!" she hissed. "It isn't safe!" And just like always, Sam ignored her by grabbing the handle and opening the door. Emma's face fell when Sam shined the light into the newly opened room. It wasn't whatever was supposed to be in an electrical sub room. It was more akin to an office, illuminated by a small window that allowed in the streetlight from outside. She heard Sam mutter something, but she was too busy looking around to pay attention.

The room was very eerie. It was filled with some sort of equipment she had never seen before, alongside lamps and filing cabinets. There were even some grimy pictures of her and Sam pinned to a corkboard. Most disturbing of all was what appeared to be a map pinned above the desk. As Emma approached, she could read what it said: 'The Grid.' But the Grid wasn't real. It was some made-up story for a video game. The map was just there to help him program things better. That had to be it. She herself had made a map for the one time she had made up a fantasy story. That was it, that had to be it.

They made their way to the desk. She had thought that perhaps there would be some papers or some idea of where their father had been, but no, there was nothing but dust. Dust and faintly glowing green numbers. She glanced at her brother, who had sat down in the only chair. Emma bit her lip as she peered over her brother's shoulder. She watched as he wiped the dust from the top. Something activated, and the screen came to life. It was just like the computers Encom had used years ago.

Again, she watched as her brother quickly typed something in. Apparently it was Flynn's computer. Her stomach sunk. Was whatever was on here the reason for their father's disappearance? She hoped not.

"You're not going to get in that way," Emma commented as her brother typed in a command. He glanced back at her, smirking as the line he had entered worked.

"You don't know what you're doing," he said, dismissing her. She sighed and continued to watch her brother poke through their father's computer. It wasn't her fault that she was rusty at computer hacking. It was illegal, after all.

Sam had stumbled into the last few commands their father had entered, and entered the last one listed.

"Is that a good idea?" she asked as a prompt box popped up. Sam ignored her question, instead selecting yes, indicating that the aperture was clear.

* * *

><p><strong>AN- Sorry for the lack of updates, I've been busy with my blog. Hope you enjoy! Please, I beg of you, send me feedback so I can change anything that's awful or just stop writing all together. **


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